University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

JACK  FLEMING  COLLECTION 

OF 
AFRICAN  AMERICANA 


MISS 


SS    OPHELIA   APPEARED,    DRAGGING   TOPSY   BEHIND   HER. 


[PAGE   35.] 


THE 
PLEASANT     HOUR     SERIES 


UNCLE      OM'S  CABIN 


HARRIET  BEECHER  STOWE 


REWRITTEN  FOR  YOUNG  READERS  BY 
MARY  E.  BLAIN 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HUGO  VON  HOFSTEN 


BREWER,    BARSE    &    CO 
CHICAGO 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 
MlSS     OPHELIA     APPEARED,     DRAGGING     TOPSY     BEHIND     HER 

Frontispiece 

SHE  CROWED  AND  CLAPPED   HER  HANDS   WITH   DELIGHT       .       .         8 

THEY  ALL  TUMBLED  OFF  THE  RAIL  TOGETHER,  AND  SCAMPERED 
AWAY  16 

"PAPA,  DO  BUY  HIM  !  IT'S  NO  MATTER  WHAT  YOU  PAY,"  WHIS- 
PERED EVA  SOFTLY 24 

"I'LL  STAY  WITH  MAS*R  AS  LONG  AS  HE  WANTS  ME — SO  AS  I 

CAN  BE  OF  ANY  USE" 32 

"O,   MAS'R,   PLEASE  DO  BUY   MY  DAUGHTER" 40 


UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN 


CHAPTER  I. 

UNCLE  TOM  AND  LITTLE  HARRY  ARE  SOLD. 

Very  many  years  ago,  instead  of  having  servants  to 
wait  upon  them  and  work  for  them,  people  used  to  have 
slaves.  These  slaves  were  paid  no  wages.  Their  mas- 
ters gave  them  only  food  and  clothes  in  return  for  their 
work. 

When  any  one  wanted  servants  he  went  to  market  to 
buy  them,  just  as  nowadays  we  buy  horses  and  cows,  or 
even  tables  and  chairs. 

If  the  poor  slaves  were  bought  by  kind  people  they 
would  be  quite  happy,  work  willingly  for  their  masters 
and  mistresses,  and  even  love  them.  But  often  cruel  peo- 
ple bought  slaves  and  used  to  beat  them  and  be  unkind 
to  them  in  many  ways. 

Uncle  Tom  was  a  slave,  and  a  faithful  and  honest 
servant.  His  master,  Mr.  Shelby,  was  kind  to  him. 
Uncle  Tom's  wife  was  called  Aunt  Chloe.  She  was 
Mr.  Shelby's  head  cook.  Nobody  in  all  the  country 
round  could  make  such  delicious  pies  and  cakes  as 
Aunt  Chloe. 

Uncle  Tom  and  Aunt  Chloe  lived  together  in  a  pretty 
little  cottage  built  of  wood,  quite  close  to  Mr.  Shelby's 
big  house. 

The  little  cottage  was  covered  with  climbing  roses, 
and  the  garden  was  full  of  beautiful  bright  flowers  and 
lovely  fruit  trees. 

Uncle  Tom  and  Aunt  Chloe  lived  happily  for  many 
years  in  their  little  cottage,  or  cabin,  as  it  was  called. 
All  day  Uncle  Tom  used  to  work  in  the  field,  while 
Aunt  Chloe  was  busy  in  the  kitchen  at  Mr.  Shelby's 

5 


6  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

house.  When  evening  came  they  both  went  home  to 
their  cottage  and  their  children,  and  were  merry  to- 
gether. 

Uncle  Tom  was  very  fond  of  his  children  and  liked 
to  amuse  them.  He  would  toss  the  baby  at  arm's  length 
until  she  crowed  and  clapped  her  hands  with  delight, 
while  Aunt  Chloe  looked  on  with  beaming  face. 

Mr.  Shelby  was  a  good  man,  and  kind  to  his  slaves, 
but  he  was  not  very  careful  of  his  money.  When  he 
had  spent  all  he  had  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  to  get 
more.  At  last  he  borrowed  money  from  a  man  called 
Haley,  hoping  to  be  able  to  pay  it  back  again  some  day. 

But  that  day  never  came.  Haley  grew  impatient,  and 
said,  "If  you  don't  pay  what  you  owe  me,  I  will  take 
your  house  and  lands,  and  sell  them  to  pay  myself  all 
the  money  I  have  lent  to  you." 

So  Mr.  Shelby  sold  everything  he  could  spare  and 
gathered  money  together  in  every  way  he  could  think 
of,  but  still  there  was  not  enough. 

Then  Haley  said,  "Give  me  that  slave  of  yours  called 
Tom — he  is  worth  a  lot  of  money." 

But  Mr.  Shelby  knew  that  Haley  was  not  a  nice 
man,  and  did  not  want  Tom  for  a  servant,  but  only 
wanted  to  sell  him  again,  to  make  more  money.  So  Mr. 
Shelby  said,  "No,  I  can't  do  that.  I  never  mean  to  sell 
any  of  my  slaves,  least  of  all  Tom.  He  has  been  with 
me  since  he  was  a  little  boy." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  Haley,  "I  shall  sell  your  house 
and  lands,  as  I  said  I  should." 

Mr.  Shelby  could  not  bear  to  think  of  that,  so  he 
agreed  to  let  Haley  have  Tom.  He  made  him  promise, 
however,  not  to  sell  Tom  again  except  to  a  kind  master. 

"Very  well,"  said  Haley,  "but  Tom  isn't  enough.  I 
must  have  another  slave." 

Just  at  this  moment  a  little  boy  came  dancing  into 
the  room  where  Mr.  Shelby  and  Haley  were  talking. 

He  was  a  pretty,  merry  little  fellow,  the  son  of  a  slave 
called  Eliza,  who  was  Mrs.  Shelby's  maid. 

"There  now,"  said  Haley,  "give  me  that  little  chap, 


Uncle  Tom  and  Little  Harry  Sold.  J 

as  well  as  Tom,  and  we  will  say  no  more  about  the 
money  you  owe  me." 

"I  can't,"  said  Mr.  Shelby.    "My  wife  is  very  fond 
of  Eliza,  and  would  never  hear  of  having  Harry  sold." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  Haley  once  more,  "I  must  just 
sell  your  house." 

So  again  Mr.  Shelby  gave  in,  and  Haley  went  away 
with  the  promise  that  next  morning  Uncle  Tom  and 
little  Harry  should  be  given  to  him,  to  be  his  slaves. 

Mr.  Shelby  was  very  unhappy  because  of  what  he 
had  done.  He  knew  his  wife  would  be  very  unhappy 
too,  and  did  not  like  to  tell  her. 

He  had  to  do  it  that  night,  however,  before  she  went 
to  bed. 

Mrs.  Shelby  could  hardly  believe  it.  "Oh,  you  do 
not  mean  this,"  she  said.  "You  must  not  sell  our  good 
Tom  and  dear  little  Harry.  Do  anything  rather  than 
that.  It  is  a  wicked,  wicked  thing  to  do." 

"There  is  nothing  else  I  can  do,"  said  Mr.  Shelby  "I 
have  sold  everything  I  can  think  of,  and  at  any  rate  now 
that  Haley  has  set  his  heart  on  having  Tom  and  Harry, 
he  would  not  take  anything  or  anybody  instead." 

Eliza  was  sitting  in  the  next  room.  The  door  was 
not  quite  closed,  so  she  could  not  help  hearing  what 
was  said.  As  she  listened  she  grew  pale  and  cold  and 
a  terrible  look  of  pain  came  into  her  face. 

Eliza's  husband  was  called  George,  and  was  a  slave 
too.  He  did  not  belong  to  Mr.  Shelby,  but  to  another 
man,  who  had  a  farm  quite  near.  George  and  Eliza 
could  not  live  together  as  a  husband  and  wife  generally 
do.  Indeed,  they  hardly  ever  saw  each  other.  George's 
master  was  a  cruel  man,  and  would  not  let  him  come  to 
see  his  wife.  He  was  so  cruel,  and  beat  George  so  dread- 
fully, that  the  poor  slave  made  up  his  mind  to  run  away. 
He  had  come  that  very  day  to  tell  Eliza  about  it. 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shelby  stopped  talking,  Eliza 
crept  to  her  own  room.  Little  Harry  was  asleep. 

Taking  a  piece  of  paper  and  a  pencil,  she  wrote 
quickly. 


8  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

'Oh,  missis  1  dear  missis!  don't  think  me  ungrateful — 
don't  think  hard  of  me,  anyway!  I  heard  all  you  and 
master  said  to-night.  I  am  going  to  try  to  save  my  boy 
—you  will  not  blame  me !  God  bless  and  reward  you 
for  all  your  kindness!" 

Eliza  was  going  to  run  away,  so  she  gathered  a  few 
of  Harry's  clothes  into  a  bundle,  put  on  her  hat  and 
jacket,  and  aroused  Harry,  who  was  rather  frightened 
at  being  waked  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  seeing 
his  mother  bending  over  him,  with  her  hat  and  jacket  on. 

"What  is  the  matter,  mother?"  he  said,  beginning  to 
cry. 

"Hush,"  she  said,  "Harry  mustn't  cry  or  speak  aloud, 
or  they  will  hear  us.  A  wicked  man  was  coming  to  take 
little  Harry  away  from  his  mother,  and  carry  him  'way 
off  in  the  dark.  But  mother  won't  let  him.  She's  going 
to  put  on  her  little  boy's  cap  and  coat,  and  run  off  with 
him,  so  the  ugly  man  can't  catch  him." 

Harry  stopped  crying  at  once,  and  was  good  and  quiet 
as  a  little  mouse,  while  his  mother  dressed  him.  When 
he  was  ready,  she  lifted  him  in  her  arms,  and  crept 
softly  out  of  the  house. 

It  was  a  beautiful,  clear,  starlight  night,  but  very  cold, 
for  it  was  winter-time.  Eliza  ran  quickly  to  Uncle 
Tom's  cottage,  and  tapped  on  the  window. 

Aunt  Chloe  jumped  up  at  once,  and  opened  the  door. 
She  was  very  much  astonished  to  see  Eliza  standing 
there  with  Harry  in  her  arms.  Uncle  Tom  followed  her 
to  the  door,  and  was  very  much  astonished  too. 

"I'm  running  away,  Uncle  Tom  and  Aunt  Chloe — 
carrying  off  my  child,"  said  Eliza.  "Master  sold  him." 

"Sold  him?"  they  both  echoed,  lifting  up  their  hands 
in  dismay. 

"Yes,  sold  him,"  said  Eliza.  "I  heard  master  tell 
missis  that  he  had  sold  my  Harry,  and  you.  Uncle 
Tom.  The  man  is  coming  to  take  you  away  to-morrow." 

At  first  Tom  could  hardly  believe  what  he  heard. 
Then  he  sank  down,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"The  good  Lord  have  pity  on  us!"  said  Aunt  Chloe. 


SHE  CROWED  AND  CLAPPED  HER  HANDS  WITH  DELIGHT.       [PAGE  6.] 


The  Chase.  9 

"What  has  Tom  done  that  master  should  sell  him?" 

"He  hasn't  done  anything — it  isn't  for  that.  Master 
don't  want  to  sell;  but  he  owes  this  man  money.  If  he 
doesn't  pay  him  it  will  end  in  his  having  to  sell  the 
house  and  all  the  slaves.  Master  said  he  was  sorry.  But 
missis  she  talked  like  an  angel.  I'm  a  wicked  girl  to 
leave  her  so,  but  I  can't  help  it.  It  must  be  right;  but 
if  it  an't  right,  the  good  Lord  will  forgive  me,  for  I 
can't  help  doing  it." 

"Tom,"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  "why  don't  you  go  too? 
There's  time." 

Tom  slowly  raised  his  head  and  looked  sorrowfully 
at  her. 

"No,  no,"  he  said.  "Let  Eliza  go.  It  is  right  that 
she  should  try  to  save  her  boy.  Mas'r  has  always  trusted 
me,  and  I  can't  leave  him  like  that.  It  is  better  for  me 
to  go  alone  than  for  the  whole  place  to  be  sold.  Mas'r 
isn't  to  blame,  Chloe.  He  will  take  care  of  you  and  the 
poor " 

Tom  could  say  no  more.  Big  man  though  he  was,  he 
burst  into  tears,  at  the  thought  of  leaving  his  wife  and 
dear  little  children,  never  to  see  them  any  more. 

"Aunt  Chloe,"  said  Eliza,  in  a  minute  or  two,  "I 
must  go.  I  saw  my  husband  to-day.  He  told  me  he 
meant  to  run  away  soon,  because  his  master  is  so  cruel 
to  him.  Try  to  send  him  a  message  from  me.  Tell 
him  I  have  run  away  to  save  our  boy.  Tell  him  to  come 
after  me  if  he  can.  Good-bye,  God  bless  you  I" 

Then  Eliza  went  out  again  into  the  dark  night  with 
her  little  boy  in  her  arms,  and  Aunt  Chloe  shut  the 
door  softly  behind  her. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  CHASE. 

Next  morning,  when  it  was  discovered  that  Eliza  had 
run  away  with  her  little  boy,  there  was  great  excitement 
and  confusion  all  over  the  house. 


io  Uncle  T orris  Cabin. 

Mrs.  Shelby  was  very  glad.  "Thank  God !"  she  said. 
I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  Harry  being  sold  to  that 
cruel  man." 

Mr.  Shelby  was  angry.  "Haley  knew  I  didn't  want 
to  sell  the  child,"  he  said.  "He  will  blame  me  for  this." 

One  person  only  was  quite  silent,  and  that  was  Aunt 
Chloe.  She  went  on  making  the  breakfast  as  if  she 
heard  and  saw  nothing  of  the  excitement  round  her. 

All  the  little  black  boys  belonging  to  the  house 
thought  it  was  fine  fun.  Very  soon,  about  a  dozen  young 
imps  were  roosting,  like  so  many  crows,  on  the  railings, 
waiting  for  Haley  to  come.  They  wanted  to  see  how 
angry  he  would  be,  when  he  heard  the  news. 

And  he  was  dreadfully  angry.  The  little  nigger  boys 
thought  it  was  grand.  They  shouted  and  laughed  and 
made  faces  at  him  until  he  started  for  them  with  his  big 
whip — when  they  all  tumbled  off  the  rail  together  and 
scampered  away. 

At  last  Haley  became  so  angry,  that  Mr.  Shelby 
offered  to  give  him  two  men  to  help  him  find  Eliza. 

But  these  two  men,  Sam  and  Andy,  knew  quite  well 
that  Mrs.  Shelby  did  not  want  Eliza  to  be  caught,  so 
they  tarried  as  much  as  possible. 

When  at  last  they  did  start,  Sam  led  them  by  a  wrong 
road.  So  the  sun  was  almost  setting  before  they  arrived 
at  the  village  where  Haley  hoped  to  find  Eliza. 

When  Eliza  left  Uncle  Tom's  cabin,  she  felt  very  sad 
and  lonely.  She  knew  she  was  leaving  all  the  friends 
she  had  ever  had. 

Harry  dropped  his  little  weary  head  upon  her  shoul- 
der, and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Eliza  walked  on  and  on,  never  resting,  all  through 
the  night.  When  the  sun  rose,  she  was  many  miles  away 
from  her  old  home.  Still  she  walked  on,  only  stopping, 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  to  buy  a  little  dinner  for  her- 
self and  Harry  at  a  farm-house. 

When  it  was  nearly  dark,  she  arrived  at  a  village,  on 


The  Chase.  n 

the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river.  If  she  could  only  get 
across  that  river,  Eliza  felt  she  would  be  safe. 

She  went  to  a  little  inn  on  the  bank,  where  a  kind- 
looking  woman  was  busy  cooking  supper. 

"Is  there  a  boat  that  takes  people  across  the  river 
now?"  she  asked. 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  the  woman.  "The  boats  has 
stopped  running.  It  isn't  safe,  there  be  too  many  blocks 
of  ice  floating  about." 

Eliza  looked  so  sad  and  disappointed  when  she  heard 
this,  that  the  good  woman  was  sorry  for  her.  Harry  too 
was  tired,  and  began  to  cry. 

"Here,  take  him  into  this  room,"  said  the  woman, 
opening  the  door  into  a  small  bedroom. 

Eliza  laid  him  upon  the  bed,  and  he  soon  fell  asleep. 
But  for  her  there  was  no  rest.  She  stood  at  the  window, 
watching  the  river  with  its  great  floating  blocks  of  ice, 
wondering  how  she  could  cross  it. 

As  she  stood  there  she  heard  a  shout.  Looking  up  she 
saw  Sam.  She  drew  back  just  in  time,  for  Haley  and 
Andy  were  riding  only  a  yard  or  two  behind  him. 

It  was  a  dreadful  moment  for  Eliza.  Her  room 
opened  by  a  side  door  to  the  river.  She  seized  her  child 
and  sprang  down  the  steps  towards  it. 

Haley  caught  sight  of  her  as  she  disappeared  down 
the  bank.  Throwing  himself  from  his  horse,  and  calling 
loudly  to  Sam  and  Andy,  he  was  after  her  in  a  moment. 

In  that  terrible  moment  her  feet  scarcely  seemed  to 
touch  the  ground.  The  next,  she  was  at  the  water's  edge. 

On  they  came  behind  her.  With  one  wild  cry  and 
flying  leap,  she  jumped  over  the  water  by  the  shore,  on  to 
the  raft  of  ice  beyond.  It  was  a  desperate  leap.  Haley, 
Sam,  and  Andy  cried  out,  and  lifted  up  their  hands  in 
astonishment. 

The  great  piece  of  ice  pitched  and  creaked  as  her 
weight  came  upon  it.  But  she  stayed  there  not  a  mo- 
ment. With  wild  cries  she  leaped  to  another  and  still 


12  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

another — stumbling — leaping — slipping — springing  up 
again  1 

Her  shoes  were  gone,  her  stockings  cut  from  her  feet 
by  the  sharp  edges  of  the  ice.  Blood  marked  every  step. 
'But  she  knew  nothing,  felt  nothing,  till  dimly,  as  in  a 
dream,  she  saw  the  Ohio  side,  and  a  man  helping  her 
up  the  bank. 

"You're  a  right  brave  gal,"  said  the  man.  "Go  there," 
pointing  to  a  big  white  house  close  by.  "They  are  kind 
folks ;  they'll  help  you." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  river  Haley  was  standing  per- 
fectly amazed  at  the  scene.  When  Eliza  disappeared 
over  the  bank  he  turned  and  looked  at  Sam  and  Andy, 
with  terrible  anger  in  his  eyes. 

"Good  evening,  mas'r,"  said  Sam.  "I  berry  much 
'spect  missis  be  anxious  'bout  us.  Mas'r  Haley  won't 
want  us  no  longer."  Then  off  they  went  as  fast  as  their 
horses  'could  gallop. 

It  was  late  at  night  before  they  reached  home  again, 
but  Mrs.  Shelby  was  waiting  for  them.  So  Sam  went 
up  and  told  the  wonderful  story  of  how  Eliza  had 
crossed  the  river  on  the  floating  ice.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Shelby  found  it  hard  to  believe  that  such  a  thing  was 
possible. 

Mrs.  Shelby  was  very,  very  glad  that  Eliza  had 
escaped.  She  told  Aunt  Chloe  to  give  Sam  and  Andy 
a  specially  good  supper.  Then  they  went  to  bed,  quite 
pleased  with  their  day's  work. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ELIZA  FINDS  A  REFUGE. 

A  lady  and  gentleman  were  sitting  talking  happily 
together  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  white  house  to 
which  Eliza  had  gone.  Suddenly  their  old  black  man- 
of-all-work  put  his  head  in  at  the  door  and  said,  "Will 
missis  come  into  the  kitchen?" 


Eliza  Finds  a  Refuge.  13 

The  lady  went.     Presently  she  called  her  husband. 

There  lay  Eliza  on  two  kitchen  chairs.  Her  poor  feet 
were  all  cut  and  bleeding,  and  she  had  fainted. 

The  old  man  had  Harry  on  his  knee,  and  was  busy 
pulling  off  his  shoes  and  stockings,  to  warm  the  little 
cold  feet. 

"Poor  creature,"  said  the  lady. 

Suddenly  Eliza  opened  her  eyes.  A  dreadful  look  of 
pain  came  into  her  face.  She  sprang  up  saying,  "Oh, 
my  Harry,  have  they  got  him?" 

As  soon  as  he  heard  her  voice,  Harry  jumped  from 
the  old  man's  knee,  and  running  to  her  side,  put  up  his 
arms. 

"Oh,  he's  here !  he's  here,"  she  said,  kissing  him.  "Oh, 
ma'am,"  she  went  on,  turning  wildly  to  the  lady  of  the 
house,  "do  protect  us,  don't  let  them  get  him." 

"Nobody  shall  hurt  you  here,  poor  woman,"  said  the 
lady.  "You  are  safe;  don't  be  afraid." 

"God  bless  you,"  said  Eliza  sobbing  and  crying  as 
she  told  them  of  her  misfortune. 

Eliza  wanted  to  go  to  Canada,  because  it  belonged 
to  the  British.  They  did  not  allow  any  one  to  be  made 
a  slave  there.  George,  too,  was  going  to  try  to  reach 
Canada. 

"Wife,"  said  the  gentleman,  when  they  had  gone  back 
again  into  their  own  sitting-room,  "we  must  get  that  poor 
woman  away  to-night.  She  is  not  safe  here. 

So  this  kind  p-entleman  got  the  carriage  ready,  and 
drove  Eliza  and  her  boy  a  long,  long  way,  through  the 
dark  night,  to  a  cottage  far  in  the  country.  There  he 
left  her  with  a  good  man  and  his  wife,  who  promised  to 
be  kind  to  her,  and  help  her  to  go  to  Canada.  He  gave 
some  money  to  the  good  man  too,  and  told  him  to  use 
it  for  Eliza. 

Kind  people  helped  her  all  the  way.  She  passed 
from  friend  to  friend,  till  she  arrived  safely  at  a  village 
where  the  people  were  Quakers. 


14  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

The  Quakers  were  gentle,  quiet  people.  They  all 
dressed  alike  in  plain  grey  clothes,  and  the  women  wore 
big,  white  muslin  caps.  Because  they  thought  it  was 
wicked  to  have  slaves,  they  helped  those  who  ran  away 
from  their  cruel  masters.  Often  they  were  punished 
for  doing  this,  but  still  they  went  on  helping  the  poor 
slaves.  For  though  the  laws  said  it  was  wrong,  they 
felt  quite  sure  that  it  was  really  right  to  do  so. 

The  kind  Quaker  women  grew  to  be  very  fond  of 
Eliza,  and  would  have  been  glad  if  she  would  have 
stayed  with  them. 

But  Eliza  said,  uNo,  I  must  go  on;  I  dare  not  stop. 
I  can't  sleep  at  night:  I  can't  rest.  Last  night  I 
dreamed  I  saw  that  man  come  into  the  yard." 

"Poor  child,"  said  Rachel,  the  kind  Quaker  woman 
to  whom  she  was  speaking,  "thee  musn't  feel  so.  No 
slave  that  has  run  away  has  ever  been  stolen  from  our 
village.  It  is  safe  here." 

While  they  were  talking,  Simeon,  Rachel's  husband, 
came  to  the  door  and  called,  "Wife,  I  want  to  speak  to 
thee  a  minute." 

Rachel  went  out  to  him.  "Eliza's  husband  is  here," 
he  said. 

"Art  thee  sure?"  asked  Rachel,  her  face  bright  with 
joy. 

"Yes,  quite  certain;  he  will  be  here  soon.  Will  thee 
tell  her?" 

Rachel  went  back  into  the  kitchen,  where  Eliza  was 
sewing,  and,  opening  the  door  of  a  small  bedroom,  said 
gently,  "Come  in  here  with  me,  my  daughter;  I  have 
news  to  tell  thee." 

Eliza  rose  trembling,  she  was  so  afraid  it  was  bad 
news. 

"No,  no!  never  fear  thee.  It's  good  news,  Eliza," 
said  Simeon. 

Rachel  shut  the  door,  and  drew  Eliza  towards  her. 
"The  Lord  has  been  very  good  to  thee,"  she  said  gently. 


Eliza  Finds  a  Refuge.  15 

"Thy  husband  hath  escaped  and  will  be  here  to-night." 

"To-night!"  repeated  Eliza,  "to-night!" 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  the  room  and  everything  in  it 
swam  round  her,  and  she  fell  into  Rachel's  arms. 

Very  gently  Rachel  laid  her  down  on  the  bed.  Eliza 
slept  as  she  had  not  slept  since  the  dreadful  night  when 
she  had  taken  her  boy  and  run  away  through  the  cold, 
dark  night. 

She  dreamed  she  heard  her  husband's  footstep.  She 
felt  him  coming  nearer.  His  arms  were  round  her,  his 
tears  falling  upon  her  face,  and  she  awoke. 

It  was  no  dream.  The  sun  had  set,  the  candles  were 
lit.  Harry  was  sleeping  by  her  side,  and  George,  her 
husband,  was  holding  her  in  his  arms. 

The  two  had  much  to  say  to  each  other.  George  told 
how  he  had  escaped  from  his  cruel  master,  and  how  he 
had  followed  Eliza  all  the  way  and  at  last  found  her. 
Then  there  were  plans  to  make  for  going  on  towards 
Canada.  The  pursuers  are  hard  after  thee,  we  must 
not  delay,"  said  Simeon. 

So  George  and  Eliza  decided  to  start  as  soon  as  it 
was  dark.  A  little  while  after  supper  they  drove  off  in- 
a  covered  wagon. 

On  and  on,  all  through  the  dark  night  they  drove 
They  reached  the  wharf  the  next  day  and  went  aboard 
the  boat  for  Canada. 

After  a  ride  of  a  day  and  a  night,  they  were  landed  on 
the  shore,  and  stood  still  till  the  boat  had  started  again. 
At  last  they  were  free. 

Then  with  tears  of  joy,  the  husband  and  wife,  with 
their  wondering  little  boy  in  their  arms,  knelt  down 
and  lifted  up  their  hearts  to  God. 


1 6  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

UNCLE  TOM  SAYS  GOOD-BYE. 

The  day  after  the  hunt  for  Eliza  was  a  very  sad  one 
in  Uncle  Tom's  cabin.  It  was  the  day  on  which  Haley 
was  going  to  take  Uncle  Tom  away. 

Aunt  Chloe  had  been  up  very  early.  She  had  washed 
and  ironed  all  Tom's  clothes,  and  packed  his  trunk 
neatly.  Now  she  was  cooking  the  breakfast, — the  last 
breakfast  she  would  ever  cook  for  her  dear  husband. 
Her  eyes  were  quite  red  and  swollen  with  crying,  and 
the  tears  kept  running  down  her  cheeks  all  the  time. 

"It's  the  last  time,"  said  Tom  sadly. 

Aunt  Chloe  could  not  answer.  She  sat  down,  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

"S'pose  we  must  be  resigned.  But,  O  Lord,  how  can 
I?  If  I  knew  anything  where  you  was  goin',  or  how 
they'd  treat  you!  Missis  says  she'll  try  and  buy  you 
back  again  in  a  year  or  two.  But,  Lor',  nobody  never 
comes  back  that  goes  down  there." 

"There'll  be  the  same  God  there,  Chloe,  that  there  is 
here." 

"Well,"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  "s'pose  dere  will.  But  the 
Lord  lets  drefful  things  happen  sometimes.  I  don't 
seem  to  get  no  comfort  dat  way." 

"Let's  think  on  our  mercies,"  said  Tom,  in  a  shaking 
voice. 

"Mercies!"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  "don't  see  any  mercies 
in  't.  It  isn't  right!  it  isn't  right  it  should  be  so!  Mas'r 
never  ought  to  have  left  it  so  that  ye  could  be  took  for 
his  debts.  Mebbe  he  can't  help  himself  now,  but  I  feel 
it's  wrong.  Nothing  can  beat  that  out  of  me.  Such  a 
faithful  crittur  as  yeVe  been,  reckonin'  on  him  more 
than  your  own  wife  and  chiPen." 

"Chloe!  now,  if  ye  love  me,  you  won't  talk  so,  when 


'? 


THEY    ALL    TUMBLED    OFF    THE    RAIL    TOGETHER,    AXD    SCAMPERED 
AWAY.     ^[PAGE    10.] 


Uncle  Tom  Says  Good-bye.  17 

it  is  perhaps  jest  the  last  time  we'll  ever  have  together," 
said  Tom. 

"Wall,  anyway,  there's  wrong  about  it  somewhere," 
said  Aunt  Chloe,  "I  can't  jest  make  out  where  'tis.  But 
there  is  wrong  somewhere,  I'm  sure  of  that." 

Neither  Tom  nor  Chloe  could  eat  any  breakfast ;  their 
hearts  were  too  full  of  sorrow.  But  the  little  children, 
who  hardly  understood  what  was  happening,  enjoyed 
theirs.  It  was  not  often  that  they  had  such  a  fine  one  as 
Chloe  had  cooked  for  Tom's  last  morning  at  home. 

Breakfast  was  just  finished,  when  Mrs.  Shelby  came. 
Chloe  was  not  very  pleased  to  see  her.  She  was  angry, 
and  blamed  her  for  letting  Tom  be  sold. 

But  Mrs.  Shelby  did  not  seem  to  see  Aunt  Chloe's 
angry  looks.  "Tom,"  she  said,  turning  to  him,  "I  come 
to "  she  could  say  no  more,  she  was  crying  so  bitterly. 

Then  all  Aunt  Chloe's  anger  faded  away. 

"L<?r',  now,  missis,  don't — don't,"  she  said.  She  too 
burst  out  crying  again,  and  for  a  few  minutes  they  all 
sobbed  together. 

"Tom,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby  at  last,  "I  can't  do  anything 
for  you  now.  But  I  promise  you,  most  solemnly,  to  save 
as  much  money  as  I  can.  As  soon  as  I  have  enough,  I 
will  buy  you  back  again." 

Just  then  Haley  arrived.  Tom  said  a  last  sad  good- 
bye to  his  wife  and  children,  and  got  into  the  cart  with 
him. 

As  soon  as  Tom  was  seated  in  the  cart,  Haley  took  a 
heavy  chain,  and  fastened  it  round  his  ankles.  Poor 
Tom  had  done  nothing  wrong,  yet  he  was  treated  worse 
than  a  thief,  just  because  he  was  a  slave. 

"Please  give  my  love  to  Mas'r  George,"  said  Tom, 
looking  round  sadly.  "Tell  him  how  sorry  I  am  he  is 
not  at  home  to  say  good-bye." 

Master  George  was  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shelby's  son.  He 
was  very  fond  of  Tom,  and  was  teaching  him  to  write. 
He  often  used  to  come  and  have  tea  in  Uncle  Tom's  little 
cottage.  Aunt  Chloe  used  to  make  her  very  nicest  cakes 


1 8  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

when  Mas'r  George  came  to  tea.  But  he  was  not  at 
home  now,  and  did  not  know  that  Tom  had  been  sold. 

Haley  whipped  up  the  horse,  and,  with  a  last  sad  look 
at  the  old  place,  Tom  was  whirled  away. 

They  had  rattled  along  the  dusty  road  for  about  a 
mile,  when  Haley  pulled  up  at  a  blacksmith's  shop. 
He  got  out  to  have  something  done  to  a  pair  of  hand- 
cuffs, leaving  Tom  in  the  cart. 

Tom  was  sitting  there,  very  mournfully,  when  sud- 
denly he  heard  the  quick,  short  click  of  a  horse's  hoofs 
behind  him.  Almost  before  he  knew  what  was  happen- 
ing, George  Shelby  sprang  into  the  cart.  He  threw  his 
arms  round  Tom's  neck,  sobbing  and  scolding. 

"Oh,  Mas'r  George,  this  does  me  good,"  said  Tom. 
"I  couldn't  bear  to  go  off  without  seein'  ye.  It  does  me 
real  good,  ye  can't  tell." 

Here  Tom  made  a  movement  with  his  feet,  and 
George's  eyes  fell  on  the  chains. 

"What  a  shame,"  he  cried.  "I'll  knock  that  old  fel- 
low down,  I  will." 

"No,  you  won't,  Mas'r  George ;  and  you  must  not  talk 
so  loud.  It  won't  help  me  any,  to  anger  him." 

"Well,  I  won't  then,  for  your  sake.  But  it's  a  shame." 
They  never  sent  for  me,  nor  sent  me  word.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  Tom  Lincoln,  I  shouldn't  have  heard  of  it." 

"Look  here,  Uncle  Tom,"  said  he,  turning  his  back  to 
the  shop,  and  speaking  in  a  mysterious  tone,  "I've 
brought  you  my  dollar." 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  think  of  takin'  it,  Mas'r  George,  no- 
ways in  the  world,"  said  Tom. 

"But  you  shall  take  it,"  said  George.  "I  told  Aunt 
Chloe  I'd  do  it.  She  advised  me  to  make  a  hole  in  it, 
and  put  a  string  through.  You  can  hang  it  around  your 
neck,  and  keep  it  out  of  sight,  else  this  mean  scamp  will 
take  it  away.  I  tell  you,  Tom,  I  want  to  blow  him  up. 
It  would  do  me  good." 

"No,  don't  Mas'r  George,  for  it  won't  do  me  any 
good." 


Uncle  Tom  Says  Good-bye.  19 

"Well,  I  won't  for  your  sake,"  said  George,  busily 
tying  his  dollar  round  Tom's  neck.  "There,  now  button 
your  coat  tight  over  it,  and  keep  it  safe.  Remember 
every  time  you  see  it,  that  I'm  coming  after  you  some 
day,  to  bring  you  back.  Aunt  Chloe  and  I  have  been 
talking  about  it.  I  told  her  not  to  fear.  I'll  see  to  it. 
I'll  tease  father's  life  out,  if  he  doesn't  see  to  it." 

"Oh'  Mas'r  George,  ye  mustn't  talk  so  'bout  your 
father." 

"Dear  me,  Uncle  Tom,  I  don't  mean  anything  bad." 

"And  now,  Mas'r  George,"  said  Tom,  "ye  must  be  a 
good  boy.  'Member  how  many  hearts  is  set  on  ye. 
Always  keep  close  to  your  mother.  Don't  be  getting 
into  any  o'  them  foolish  ways  boys  has  of  getting  too  big 
to  mind  their  mothers.  Tell  ye  what,  Mas'r  George, 
the-  Lord  gives  a  good  many  things  twice  over,  but  he 
don't  give  ye  a  mother  but  once.  You'll  never  see  such 
another  woman,  Mas'r  George — not  if  ye  live  to  be  a 
hundred  years  old.  So,  now,  you  hold  on  to  her,  and 
grow  up,  and  be  a  comfort  to  her,  there's  my  own  good 
boy — you  will  now — won't  ye?" 

Haley  now  came  to  the  shop  door  with  the  handcuffs 
in  his  hand. 

"Good-bye,  Uncle  Tom,"  said  George,  "don't  get 
downhearted." 

"Good-bye,  Mas'r  George,"  said  Tom.  "God  Al- 
mighty bless  you." 

Haley  came  to  the  cart,  threw  the  handcuffs  in,  and 
jumping  up  on  to  the  seat,  drove  off. 

All  day  long,  they  drove  over  the  rough  country 
roads.  Late  in  the  evening  they  arrived  at  a  town 
called  Washington.  Haley  went  to  a  comfortable  inn 
for  the  night,  but  poor  Tom  was  sent  to  prison  with 
handcuffs  on  his  wrists,  and  heavy  chains  on  his  ankles. 
This  was  not  because  he  had  done  anything  wicked,  but 
only  that  he  happened  to  be  a  black  man  and  a  slave. 


20  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

CHAPTER  V. 

UNCLE  TOM  MEETS  EVA. 

Haley  stayed  in  Washington  several  days.  He  went 
to  market  each  day  and  bought  more  slaves.  He  put 
heavy  chains  on  their  hands  and  feet,  and  sent  them  to 
prison  with  Tom. 

When  he  had  bought  all  the  slaves  he  wanted,  and 
was  ready  to  go,  he  drove  them  before  him,  like  a  herd 
of  cattle,  on  to  a  boat  which  was  going  south. 

It  was  a  beautiful  boat.  The  deck  was  gay  with 
lovely  ladies  and  fine  gentlemen  walking  about  enjoy- 
ing the  bright  spring  sunshine. 

Down  on  the  lower  deck,  in  the  dark,  among  the  lug- 
gage, were  crowded  Tom  and  the  other  poor  slaves. 

Among  the  passengers  was  a  pretty  little  girl,  about 
six  years  old.  She  had  beautiful  golden  hair,  and  big 
blue  eyes.  She  ran  about,  dancing  and  laughing  like  a 
little  fairy.  She  was  always  dressed  in  white,  and  Tom 
thought  she  looked  like  a  little  angel. 

Often  she  would  come,  and  walk  sadly  round  the 
place  where  the  poor  slaves  sat  in  their  chains,  look 
pityingly  at  them,  and  then  go  slowly  away.  Once  or 
twice  she  came  with  her  pinafore  full  of  sweets,  nuts 
and  oranges,  and  gave  them  all  some. 

Tom  watched  the  little  lady,  and  tried  to  make 
friends  with  her.  His  pockets  were  full  of  all  kinds  of 
things,  with  which  he  used  to  amuse  his  old  master's 
children. 

He  could  make  whistles  of  every  sort  and  size,  cut 
baskets  out  of  cherry-stones,  faces  out  of  nut-shells, 
jumping  figures  out  of  bits  of  wood.  He  brought  these 
out  one  by  one,  and  though  the  little  girl  was  shy  at  first, 
they  soon  grew  to  be  great  friends. 

"What  is  missy's  name?"  said  Tom  one  day. 

"Evangeline  St.  Clare,"  said  the  little  girl;  "though 


Uncle  Tom  Meets  Eva.  21 

papa  and  everybody  else  call  me  Eva.  Now,  what's 
your  name?" 

"My  name's  Tom.  The  little  chil'en  at  my  old  home 
used  to  call  me  Uncle  Tom." 

"Then  I  mean  to  call  you  Uncle  Tom,  because,  you 
see,  I  like  you,"  said  Eva.  "So  Uncle  Tom,  where  are 
you  going?" 

"I  don't  know,  Miss  Eva." 

"Don't  know?"  said  Eva. 

"No.  I'm  going  to  be  sold  to  somebody.  I  don't 
know  who." 

"My  papa  can  buy  you,"  said  Eva  quickly.  "If  he 
buys  you,  you  will  have  good  times.  I  mean  to  ask  him 
to,  this  very  day." 

"Thank  you,  my  little  lady,"  said  Tom. 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  boat  stopped  at  a  small  land- 
ing-place to  take  in  some  wood.  Eva  heard  her  father's 
voice,  and  ran  away  to  speak  to  him. 

Eva  and  her  father  were  standing  by  the  railings  as 
the  boat  once  more  began  to  move.  It  had  hardly  left 
the  landing-stage  when,  somehow  or  other,  Eva  lost  her 
balance,  and  fell  over  the  side  of  the  boat  into  the 
water. 

Tom  was  standing  just  under  her,  on  the  lower  deck, 
as  she  fell.  In  a  moment  he  sprang  after  her.  The 
next,  he  had  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  was  swimming 
with  her  to  the  boat-side,  where  eager  hands  were  held 
out  to  take  her. 

The  whole  boat  was  in  confusion.  Every  one  ran  to 
help  Eva,  while  the  poor  slave  went  back  to  his  place, 
unnoticed  and  uncared  for. 

But  Mr.  St.  Clare  did  not  forget,  and  when  Eva  put 
her  arms  around  his  neck  and  whispered,  "Papa,  do  buy 
him,  it's  no  matter  what  you  pay,"  he  gave  Haley  his 
price,  and  Tom  had  a  new  master. 

"Come,  Eva,"  said  Mr.  St.  Clare,  and  taking  her 
hand,  went  across  the  boat  to  Tom. 


22  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

"Look  up,  Tom,"  she  said  to  him,  "and  see  how  you 
like  your  new  master." 

Mr.  St.  Clare  had  such  a  gay,  young,  handsome  face, 
that  Tom  could  not  help  feeling  glad.  Grateful  tears 
rushed  to  his  eyes  as  he  said,  "God  bless  you,  mas'r." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

UNCLE  TOM'S  LETTER. 

Uncle  Tom  felt  that  he  was  indeed  very  fortunate  to 
have  found  such  a  kind  master  and  so  good  a  home. 
He  had  nice  clothes,  plenty  of  food,  and  a  comfortable 
room  to  sleep  in.  He  had  no  hard,  disagreeable  work 
to  do.  His  chief  duties  were  to  drive  Mrs.  St.  Clare's 
carriage  when  she  wished  to  go  out,  and  to  attend  on 
Eva  when  she  wanted  him.  He  soon  grew  to  love  his 
little  mistress  very  much. 

Mr.  St.  Clare  was  not  long  in  finding  out  how  clever 
Tom  was,  and  soon  trusted  him  as  thoroughly  as  his 
former  master,  Mr.  Shelby  had  done. 

But  in  spite  of  all  his  good  fortune,  Tom  longed  to 
go  home  to  see  his  dear  ones  again.  He  had  plenty  of 
spare  time  and  when  he  had  nothing  to  do  he  would 
try  to  find  comfort  in  reading  his  Bible. 

On  Sundays  little  Eva  used  to  come  into  his  room. 
They  read  the  Bible  and  sang  hymns  together,  and 
talked  of  his  home.  That  comforted  him  too. 

But  as  time  went  on,  Uncle  Tom  longed  more  and 
more  for  his  home.  At  last  one  day  he  had  a  grand 
idea.  He  would  write  a  letter. 

Before  Uncle  Tom  was  sold,  George  Shelby  had 
been  teaching  him  to  write,  so  he  thought  he  could  man- 
age a  letter. 

It  was  very  difficult.  Poor  Uncle  Tom  found  that 
he  had  quite  forgotten  how  to  make  some  of  the  letters. 
Of  those  he  did  remember,  he  was  not  quite  sure  which 
he  ought  to  use. 


Uncle  Tom's  Letter.  23 

While  he  was  working  away,  breathing  very  hard 
over  it,  Eva  came  behind  him,  and  peeped  over  his 
shoulder. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Tom!  what  funny  things  you  are  mak- 
ing!" 

"I'm  trying  to  write  to  my  old  woman  and  my  little 
chil'cn,  Miss  Eva,"  said  Tom,  drawing  the  back  of  his 
hand  over  his  eyes  to  wipe  away  the  tears.  "But  some 
how  I'm  feared  I  shan't  be  able  to  do  it." 

"I  wish  I  could  help  you  Tom.  I've  learnt  to  write 
a  little.  Last  year  I  could  make  all  the  letters  but  I'm 
afraid  I've  forgotten." 

Eva  put  her  little  golden  head  close  to  Uncle  Tom's 
black  one,  and  they  began  a  serious  and  anxious  talk 
over  the  letter.  Finally  it  was  begun  and  they  thought 
it  looked  quite  like  a  proper  letter. 

"Yes,  Uncle  Tom,  it  begins  to  look  beautiful,"  said 
Eva,  gazing  on  it  with  delight.  "How  pleased  your 
wife  will  be,  and  the  poor  little  children!  Oh,  it  is  a 
shame  that  you  ever  had  to  go  away  from  them!  I 
mean  to  ask  papa  to  let  you  go  back,  some  day. 

"Misses  said  that  she  would  send  down  money  for  met 
as  soon  as  they  could  get  it  together,"  said  Tom. 
"Young  Mas'r  George,  he  said  he'd  come  for  me.  He 
gave  me  this  dollar  as  a  sign,"  and  Tom  drew  the  prec- 
ious dollar  from  under  his  coat. 

"Oh,  he  is  sure  to  come,  then,"  said  Eva,  "I  am  so 
glad." 

"I  wanted  to  send  a  letter,  you  see,  to  let  'em  know 
where  I  was,  and  tell  poor  Chloe  that  I  was  well  off, 
'cause  she  felt  so  dreadful,  poor  soul." 

"I  say,  Tom,"  said  IVtr.  St.  Clare,  coming  in  at  the 
door  at  this  minute.  "What's  this?" 

Tom  and  Eva  both  started. 

"Oh,  it's  Tom's  letter.  I'm  helping  him  to  write  it," 
said  Eva.  "Isn't  it  nice?" 

"I    wouldn't    discourage    either  of    yout"  said  her 


24  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

father;  "but  I  rather  think,  Tom,  you  had  better  let  me 
write  your  letter  for  you." 

"It  is  very  important  that  you  should  write,"  said 
Eva,  "because  his  mistress  is  going  to  send  money  to  buy 
him  back  again,  you  know,  papa." 

So  that  evening  the  letter  was  written,  and  Uncle 
Tom  carried  it  joyfully  to  the  post-office. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

AUNT  CHLOE  GOES  TO  LOUISVILLE. 

Late  on  a  summer  afternoon,  a  few  days  after  Tom's 
letter  was  posted,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shelby  sat  together  in 
the  hall  of  their  house.  It  was  very  hot,  and  all  the 
doors  and  windows  were  wide  open. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby,  "that  Chloe  has 
had  a  letter  from  Tom?" 

"He  has  been  bought  by  a  very  fine  family,  I  should 
think,  "he  is  kindly  treated,  and  has  light  work." 

"Ah!  well,  I'm  glad  of  it— very  glad,"  said  Mr.  Shel- 
by. "Tom,  I  suppose,  is  quite  pleased.  He  won't  want 
to  come  back  here  again." 

"Oh,  but  he  does.  He  is  very  anxious  to  know  when 
the  money  to  buy  him  is  to  be  raised,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby. 

"I'm  sorry.  I  ought  not  to  have  promised  to  buy 
Tom  back  again.  I  can  not  raise  the  money  so  you  had 
better  let  Tom  know  it  is  impossible." 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that.  If  I  cannot  get  money  any 
other  -way,  I  shall  take  music  pupils.  I  could  earn 
enough  myself  that  wav,"  replied  Mrs.  Shelby. 

"Don't  speak  of  sucfi  a  thing.  I  should  never  allow 
it,"  replied  Mr.  Shelby  quite  crossly. 

Just  then  Aunt  Chloe  came  and  asked  if  "Misses 
would  come  and  look  at  dis  lot  of  poetry." 

Aunt  Chloe  always  would  call  poultry  poetry,  in 
spite  of  anything  one  could  say  to  her. 


'PAPA,  DO  BUY  HIM  !  IT'S  NO  MATTER  WHAT  YOU  PAY,"  WHISPERED 
EVA  SOFTLY.     [PAGE  21.] 


Aunt  Chloe  Goes  to  Louisville.  25 

"I  can't  see  it,"  she  would  say.  "One  word  is  just  as 
good  as  another.  Poetry  is  something  nice  anyhow." 
So  poetry  Chloe  called  it. 

Mrs.  Shelby  went  to  look  at  the  poultry.  She  soon 
saw,  however,  that  it  was  only  an  excuse.  Aunt  Chloe 
didn't  really  want  her  to  look  at  it — she  wanted  to  talk 
about  something.  For  a  minute  or  two  she  hesitated, 
then  she  said  with  a  shy  laugh,  "Laws  me,  missis,  why 
should  mas'r  and  missis  be  troubling  about  money? 
Why  don't  they  use  what  is  in  their  hands?" 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby. 

"Why,  laws  me,  missis,"  said  Ohloe,  "some  folks 
hires  out  their  niggers  to  other  people,  and  so  makes 
money  out  of  them. 

"Well,  Chloe,  who  do  you  think  we  could  hire  out?" 

"I  ain't  thinking  nothing.  Only  Sam,  he  told  me  der 
was  a  perfectioner  in  Louisville  who  said  he  wanted 
some  one  who  could  make  nice  cakes  and  pastry.  He 
said  he  would  give  four  dollar  a  week  to  one,  he  did." 

"Well,  Chloe?" 

"Well,  I's  a  thinkin,  missis,  Sally  has  been  under  my 
care  now  for  some  time.  She  can  cook  nearly  as  well 
as  me.  If  missis  would  only  let  me  go,  I  could  earn 
some  money,  and  help  to  buy  my  old  man  back  again. 
I  ain't  afraid  to  put  my  cake  or  pies  neither  Alongside 
no  perfectioner's." 

"Confectioner's,  Chloe." 

"Dear  me,  missis,  words  is  so  curis.  Can't  never  get 
'em  right." 

"But,  Chloe,  do  you  want  to  leave  your  children?" 

"De  boys  is  big  enough  now,  and  Sally  will  look  after 
baby." 

"Louisville  is  a  long  way  off." 

"Who's  afeard?  It's  somewhere  near  my  old  man, 
perhaps,"  said  Chloe,  looking  at  Mrs.  Shelby  in  a  ques- 
tioning way. 


a6  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

"No,  Chloe,  it's  many  hundred  miles  off,"  said  Mrs. 
Shelby  sadly. 

Chloe's  face  fell. 

"Never  mind;  your  going  there  will  bring  you 
nearer,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby.  "Yes,  you  may  go.  Every 
penny  of  your  wages  shall  be  laid  aside  to  buy  Tom 
back  with." 

Chloe's  face  really  shone. 

"Oh,  missis  is  too  good.  I  was  thinkin'  of  dat  very 
thing.  I  shan't  need  no  clothes,  nor  shoes,  nor  nothin.' 
I  could  save  every  penny.  How  many  weeks  is  there 
in  a  year,  missis?" 

"Fifty-two,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby. 

"And  four  dollars  for  each  of  'em.  Why,  how  much 
would  dat  be?" 

"Two  hundred  and  eight  dollars." 

"Why-el"  said  Chloe,  quite  surprised  and  delighted 
at  the  big  sum.  "How  long  would  it  take  me  to  earn 
enough,  missis?" 

"Four  or  five  years,  Chloe.  But  then  you  needn't  do 
it  all.  I  shall  add  some  to  it." 

"I  wouldn't  hear  of  missis  giving  lessons.  Mas'r's 
quite  right  in  dat.  I  hope  none  of  our  family  will  ever 
be  brought  to  dat  while  Fs  got  hands,"  said  Chloe 
proudly. 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby  smiling.  Now 
she  knew  that  Chloe  had  heard  what  she  had  said  to 
Mr.  Shelby. 

So  it  was  settled  that  Aunt  Chloe  should  start  next 
day  for  Louisville,  and  that  all  the  money  she  earned 
was  to  be  laid  aside  for  Tom. 

George  gladly  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Uncle  Tom. 
He  told  him  everything,  that  was  happening  at  home, 
and  how  Aunt  Chloe  was  going  to  Louisville,  to  help 
earn  money  to  buy  him  back  again. 

The  letter  cheered  Tom  very  much  when  he  received 
it,  and  a  great  hope  grew  in  his  heart. 


Aunt  Dinah.  27 

Chloe  too  was  happier  than  she  had  been  since  Uncle 
Tom  had  been  taken  away  from  her,  because  she  felt 
that  she  was  working  for  him,  and  every  penny  she 
earned  brought  them  nearer  to  each  other.  She  still  be- 
longed to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shelby.  They  had  not  sold- 
her,  but  only  lent  her  to  the  confectioner,  who  paid 
wages  to  her  for  the  work  she  did. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AUNT  DINAH. 

Mr.  St.  Clare's  wife  thought  she  was  too  ill  to  super- 
intend their  home  and  left  everything  for  the  slaves  to 
do,  which  was  not  satisfactory. 

Things  went  from  bad  to  worse,  until  finally  Mr.  St. 
Clare  went  to  his  cousin,  Miss  Ophelia,  and  begged  her 
to  come  and  keep  house  for  him  and  look  after  little 
Eva.  It  was  on  the  journey  back  with  her  that  the  ac- 
cident to  Eva  happened,  which  resulted  in  the  purchase 
of  Uncle  Tom. 

Miss  Ophelia  St.  Clare  was  a  very  prim  and  precise 
person.  In  her  home  people  did  not  have  slaves.  She 
was  very  sorry  for  them  and  would  have  liked  to  free 
them  all,  yet  she  did  not  love  them  nor  could  not  bear 
to  touch  them  or  have  them  near  her,  just  because  they 
were  black. 

Miss  Ophelia  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  bring  order 
into  the  St.  Clare  household.  The  slaves  had  been  left 
to  themselves  so  long,  they  had  grown  untidy,  and  were 
not  pleased  with  Miss  Feely,  as  they  called  her,  for 
trying  to  make  them  be  tidy.  She  got  up  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  much  to  the  surprise  of  the  housemaids, 
and  all  day  long  was  busy  dusting  and  tidying,  till  Mrs. 
St.  Clare  said  it  made  her  tired  to  see  cousin  Ophelia 
so  busy. 


28  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Things  soon  began  to  be  more  orderly,  except  the 
kitchen;  that  seemed  hopeless. 

Aunt  Dinah  was  a  good  cook,  but  was  a  dreadfully 
untidy  old  woman. 

"What  is  this  drawer  for?"  asked  Miss  Ophelia,  the 
first  morning  she  went  into  the  kitchen. 

"It's  handy  for  most  anything,  missis,"  said  Aunt 
Dinah. 

So  it  seemed.  Miss  Ophelia  tumbled  the  drawer  out. 
There  she  found  a  nutmeg-grater  and  two  or  three  nut- 
megs, a  hymn-book,  two  handkerchiefs,  some  wool  and 
knitting,  a  paper  of  tobacco  and  a  pipe,  a  few  biscuits, 
one  or  two  china  saucers  with  some  pomade  in  them, 
one  or  two  old  shoes,  a  piece  of  flannel  wrapping  up 
some  small  white  onions,  several  table-napkins,  some 
coarse  towels,  some  string  and  darning  needles,  and 
several  broken  papers  of  sweet  herbs,  which  were  spil- 
ling all  over  the  drawer. 

"Where  do  you  keep  your  nutmegs,  Dinah?"  asked 
Miss  Ophelia. 

"Most  anywhere,  missis.  There's  some  in  that  cracked 
teacup  up  there,  and  there's  some  over  in  that  cup- 
board." 

"Here  are  some  in  the  grater,"  said  Miss  Ophelia, 
holding  them  up. 

"Laws,  yes.  I  put  'em  there  this  mornin'.  I  likes  to 
keep  my  things  handy." 

"What  is  this?"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  holding  up  a 
saucer  with  pomade. 

"It's  my  hair-grease.    I  put  it  there  to  have  it  handy." 

"Do  you  use  your  mistress's  best  saucers  for  that?" 

"Law!  It  was  cause  I  was  driv  and  in  such  a  hurry. 
I  was  going  to  change  it  this  very  day." 

"Here  are  two  table-napkins." 

"Them  table-napkins  I  put  there  to  get  'em  washed 
out  some  day." 

"Don't  you  have  some  place  here,  on  purpose  for 
things  to  be  washed?" 


Aunt  Dinah.  29 

"Well,  Mas'r  St.  Clare  got  dat  chest,  he  said,  for 
dat.  But  I  likes  to  mix  up  biscuit,  and  have  my  things 
on  it  some  days.  Then  it  an't  handy  a-liftin'  up  the  lid." 

"Why  don't  you  mix  your  biscuits  on  the  pastry 
table?" 

"Law,  missis,  it  gets  so  full  of  dishes,  and  one  thing 
and  another,  der  an't  no  room." 

"But  you  should  wash  your  dishes,  and  clear  them 
away." 

"Wash  my  dishes!"  said  Dinah,  growing  very  angry. 
"What  does  ladies  know  'bout  work,  I  want  to  know? 
When  would  mas'r  ever  get  his  dinner  if  I  was  to  spend 
all  my  time  a-washin'  and  a-puttin'  away  dishes?" 

"Well,  here  are  these  onions,"  said  Miss  Ophelia 
patiently. 

"Laws,  yes!"  said  Dinah,  "that  is  where  I  put  'em, 
now.  I  couldn't  'member.  Them's  particular  onions 
I  was  a-savin'  for  dis  very  stew.  I'd  forgot  dey  was 
in  that  old  flannel." 

Miss  Ophelia  next  lifted  up  the  papers  of  sweet 
herbs. 

"I  wish  missis  wouldn't  touch  dem  things.  I  likes 
to  keep  my  things  handy,"  said  Dinah. 

"But  you  don't  want  holes  in  the  papers." 

"Them's  handy  for  sifting  them  out." 

"But  you  see,  it  spills  all  over  the  drawer." 

"Laws,  yes !  If  missis  will  go  a-tumblin'  things  all  up 
so,  it  will,"  said  Dinah,  coming  uneasily  to  the  drawers. 

"I'm  going  through  the  kitchen,  and  going  to  put 
everything  in  order  once,  Dinah.  Then  I  expect  you 
to  keep  it  so." 

"Oh,  now,  Miss  Feely,  dat  an't  no  way  for  ladies  to 
do.  I  never  did  see  ladies  doing  no  such  thing.  I  don't 
see  no  kind  of  need  of  it."  And  Dinah  stalked  about 
indignantly,  while  Miss  Ophelia  tidied  up.  "I  has 
things  as  straight  as  anybody  when  my  clearin'-up  time 
comes,"  she  grumbled.  "But  I  don't  want  ladies  round. 


3°  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

a-hinderin'  and  gettin'  my  things  all  where  I  can't  find 


-em." 


Miss  Ophelia  soon  saw  that  Dinah  was  indeed  hope- 
less. One  day  in  despair  she  spoke  to  Mr.  St  Clare 
about  it. 

"Oh,  you  must  let  Dinah  go  her  own  way,"  said  he. 
"She  is  a  splendid  cook,  but  if  we  saw  how  she  did  it, 
I  expect  we  should  never  eat  any  more.  You  can't  make 
her  any  better,  so  just  leave  her  alone.  She  is  too  old 
to  mend  her  ways." 

So  Aunt  Dinah  was  left  alone  to  rule  the  kitchen  as 
she  liked. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TOPSY. 

One  morning,  while  Miss  Ophelia  was  busy,  as  usual, 
she  heard  Mr.  St.  Clare  calling  from  the  foot  of  the 
stairs. 

"Come  down  here,  cousin.  I  have  something  to 
show  you." 

"What  is  it?"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  coming  down  with 
her  sewing  in  her  hand. 

"I  have  bought  something  for  you.  See  here,"  he 
said,  pulling  forward  a  little  negro  girl  of  about  eight 
or  nine  years  old. 

She  was  quite  black.  Her  round,  shining  eyes  glit- 
tered like  glass  beads.  Her  woolly  hair  was  plaited  into 
little  tails  which  stuck  out  in  all  directions.  Her  clothes 
were  dirty  and  ragged.  Miss  Ophelia  thought  she  had 
never  seen  such  a  dreadful  little  girl  in  all  her  life. 

"Now,  cousin,  what  is  this  for?  Your  house  is  full 
of  these  little  plagues  as  it  is.  I  don't  want  her,  I'm 
sure." 

"Well,  the  fact  is,  cousin,"  said  Mr.  St.  Clare,  draw- 
ing her  aside,  "she  belonged  to  some  people  who  were 
dreadfully  cruel  and  beat  her.  I  couldn't  bear  to  hear 


Topsy.  31 

her  screaming  every  day,  so  I  bought  her.  I  will  give 
her  to  you.  Do  try  and  make  something  of  her." 

"Well,  I'll  do  what  I  can,"  said  Miss  Ophelia.  "She 
is  fearfully  dirty,  and  half  naked." 

Getting  Topsy  clean  was  a  very  long  business.  But 
at  last  it  was  done. 

Then,  sitting  down  before  her,  Miss  Ophelia  began 
to  question  her. 

"How  old  are  you,  Topsy? 

"Dunno,  missis,"  said  she,  grinning  like  an  ugly  little 
black  doll. 

"Don't  know  how  old  you  are !  Did  nobody  ever  tell 
you?  Who  was  your  mother?" 

"Never  had  none,"  said  Topsy,  with  another  grin. 

"Never  had  any  mother!  What  do  you  mean?  Where 
were  you  born?" 

"Never  was  born,"  said  Topsy  very  decidedly. 
"Never  had  no  father,  nor  mother,  nor  nothin'!" 

"Have  you  ever  heard  anything  about  God,  Topsy?" 
asked  Miss  Ophelia  next.  "Do  you  know  who  made 
you?" 

"Nobody  as  I  knows  on,"  replied  Topsy,  with  a 
laugh.  "Spect  I  grow'd.  Don't  think  nobody  ever 
made  me." 

"What  can  you  do?  What  did  you  do  for  your  mas- 
ter and  mistress?" 

"Fetch  water,  and  wash  dishes,  and  clean  knives, 
and  wait  on  folks." 

"Well,  now,  Topsy,  I'm  going  to  show  you  just  how 
my  bed  is  to  be  made.  I  am  very  particular  about  my 
bed.  You  must  learn  exactly  how  to  do  it." 

"Yes,  missis,"  said  Topsy.  But  while  Miss  Ophelia 
was  bending  over  the  bed  she  had  quickly  seized  a  pair 
of  gloves  and  a  ribbon,  which  were  lying  on  the  dress- 
ing-table, and  slipped  them  up  her  sleeves.  When  Miss 
Ophelia  looked  up  again,  the  naughty  little  girl  was 
standing  with  meekly-folded  hands  as  before. 

"Now,  Topsy,  let  me  see  you  do  this,"  said  Miss 


32  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Ophelia,  pulling  the  clothes  off  again  and  seating  her- 
self. 

Topsy,  looking  very  earnest,  did  it  all  just  as  she  had 
been  shown.  She  did  it  so  quickly  and  well  that  Miss 
Ophelia  was  very  pleased.  But,  alas !  as  she  was  finish- 
ing, an  end  of  ribbon  came  dangling  out  of  her  sleeve. 

"What  is  this?"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  seizing  it.  "You 
naughty,  wicked  child — you  have  been  stealing  this." 

"Why,  that's  Miss  Feely's  ribbon,  an't  it?  How 
could  it  'a  got  into  my  sleeve?" 

"Topsy,  you  naughty  girl,  don't  tell  me  a  lie.  You 
stole  that  ribbon." 

"Missis,  I  declare  I  didn't.  Never  seed  it  till  dis 
blessed  minnit." 

"Topsy,"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  "don't  you  know  it  is 
wicked  to  tell  lies?" 

"I  never  tells  no  lies,  Miss  Feely,"  said  Topsy.  "It's 
jist  the  truth  I've  been  tellin'  now.  It  an't  nothin'  else." 

"Topsy,  I  shall  have  to  whip  you,  if  you  tell  lies  so." 

"Laws,  missis,  if  you  whip  's  all  day,  couldn't  say  no 
other  way,"  said  Topsy,  beginning  to  cry.  "I  never  seed 
dat  ribbon.  It  must  'a  caught  in  my  sleeve.  Miss 
Feely  must  'a  left  it  on  the  bed,  and  it  got  caught  in  the 
clothes,  and  so  got  in  my  sleeve." 

Miss  Ophelia  was  so  angry  at  such  a  barefaced  lie 
that  she  caught  Topsy  and  shook  her.  "Don't  tell  me 
that  again,"  she  said. 

The  shake  brought  the  gloves  on  to  the  floor  from 
the  other  sleeve. 

"There,"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  "will  you  tell  me  now 
you  didn't  steal  the  ribbon?" 

Topsy  now  confessed  to  stealing  the  gloves.  But  she 
still  said  she  had  not  taken  the  ribbon. 

"Now,  Topsy,"  said  Miss  Ophelia  kindly,  "if  you 
will  confess  all  about  it  I  won't  whip  you  this  time." 

So  Topsy  confessed  to  having  stolen  both  the  ribbon 
and  the  gloves.  She  said  she  was  very,  very  sorry,  and 
would  never  do  it  again. 


'I'LL  STAY  WITH  MAS'R  AS  LONG  AS  HE  WANTS  ME — so  AS  i  CAN  BE 
OF  ANY  USE."     [PAGE  38.] 


Topsy.  33 

"Well,  now,  tell  me,"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  "have  you 
taken  anything  else  since  you  have  been  in  the  house? 
If  you  confess  I  won't  whip  you." 

"Laws,  missis,  I  took  Miss  Eva's  red  thing  she  wears 
on  her  neck." 

"You  did,  you  naughtv  child!    Well,  what  else?" 

"I  took  Rosa's  ear-rings — them  red  ones." 

"Go  and  bring  them  to  me  this  minute — both  of 
them." 

"Laws,  missis,  I  can't — they 's  burnt  up." 

"Burnt  up?  What  a  story!  Go  and  get  them,  or  I 
shall  whip  you." 

Topsy  began  to  cry  and  groan,  and  declare  that  she 
could  not.  "They's  burnt  up,  they  is." 

"What  did  you  burn  them  up  for?"  asked  Miss 
Ophelia. 

"Cause  I  's  wicked,  I  is.  I 's  mighty  wicked,  anyhow. 
I  can't  help  it." 

Just  at  this  minute  Eva  came  into  the  room  wearing 
her  coral  necklace. 

"Why,  Eva,  where  did  you  get  your  necklace?"  said 
Miss  Ophelia. 

"Get  it?  Why,  I  have  had  it  on  all  day,"  answered 
Eva,  rather  surprised.  "And,  what  is  funny,  aunty,  I 
had  it  on  all  night  too.  I  forgot  to  take  it  off  when  I 
went  to  bed." 

Miss  Ophelia  looked  perfectly  astonished.  She  was 
more  astonished  still  when,  next  minute,  Rosa,  who  was 
one  of  the  housemaids,  came  in  with  a  basket  of  clean 
clothes,  wearing  her  coral  ear-rings  as  usual. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  such  a  child," 
she  said,  in  despair.  "What  in  the  world  made  you  tell 
me  you  took  those  things,  Topsy?" 

"Why,  missis  said  I  must  'fess.  I  couldn't  think  of 
nothing  else  to  'fess,"  said  Topsy,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"But,  of  course,  I  didn't  want  you  to  confess  things 
you  didn't  do,"  said  Miss  Ophelia.  "That  is  telling  a 
lie  just  as  much  as  the  other." 


34  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

"Laws,  now,  is  it?"  said  Topsy,  looking  surprised  and 
innocent. 

"Poor  Topsy,"  said  Eva,  "why  need  you  steal?  You 
are  going  to  be  taken  good  care  of  now.  I  am  sure  I 
would  rather  give  you  anything  of  mine  than  have  you 
steal  it." 

Topsy  had  never  been  spoken  to  so  kindly  and  gently 
in  all  her  life.  For  a  minute  she  looked  as  if  she  were 
going  to  cry.  The  next  she  was  grinning  as  usual  in  her 
ugly  way. 

"What  is  to  be  done  with  Topsy?"  said  Miss  Ophelia. 
"I  never  saw  such  a  child  as  this." 

But  no  one  could  answer  her  question.  So  Miss 
Ophelia  had  to  go  on,  as  best  she  could,  trying  to  make 
Topsy  a  good  girl. 

She  taught  her  to  read  and  to  sew.  Topsy  liked  read- 
ing, and  learned  her  letters  like  magic.  But  she  could 
not  bear  sewing.  So  she  broke  her  needles  or  threw 
them  away.  She  tangled,  broke,  and  dirtied  her  cotton 
and  hid  her  reels.  Miss  Ophelia  felt  sure  all  these 
things  could  not  be  accidents.  Yet  she  could  never  catch 
Topsy  doing  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 
EVA. 

Two  or  three  years  passed.  Uncle  Tom  was  still  with 
Mr.  St.  Clare,  far  away  from  his  home.  He  was  not 
really  unhappy.  But  his  heart  ached  to  see  his  dear  ones 
again. 

Now  he  began  to  have  a  new  sorrow.  He  loved  his 
little  mistress  Eva  very  tenderly,  and  she  was  ill. 

One  day  Eva  seated  herself  on  her  Father's  knee,  and 
laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

"It  is  no  use,  papa,  to  keep  it  to  myself  any  longer. 
The  time  is  coming  when  I  am  going:  to  leave  you.  I 
am  going,  never  to  come  back,"  and  Eva  sobbed. 


Eva.  35 

"Eva,  darling,  don't  say  such  things;  you  are  better, 
you  know." 

"No,  papa,  I  am  not  any  better.  I  know  it  quite 
well,  and  I  am  going  soon." 

"And  I  want  to  go,"  she  went  on,  "only  I  don't  want 
to  leave  you — it  almost  breaks  my  heart." 

"Don't,  Eva,  don't  talk  so.    What  makes  you  so  sad?" 

"I  feel  sad  for  our  poor  people.  I  wish,  papa,  they 
were  all  free.  Isn't  there  any  way  to  have  all  slaves 
made  free?" 

"That  is  a  difficult  question,  dearest.  I  wish  there 
was  not  a  slave  in  the  land.  But  then,  I  don't  know 
what  is  to  be  done  about  it." 

"Papa,  you  are  such  a  good  man,  and  so  noble  and 
kind.  Couldn't  you  go  all  round  and  try  and  persuade 
people  to  do  right  about  this?  When  I  am  dead,  papa, 
then  you  will  think  of  me,  and  do  it  for  my  sake." 

"When  you  are  dead,  Eva!   Oh,  child,  don't  talk  to 


me  so." 


"Promise  me  at  least,  father,  that  Tom  shall  have  his 
freedom,  as  soon  as  I  am  gone." 

"Yes,  dear,  I  will  do  anything  you  wish.  Only  don't 
talk  so." 

Miss  Ophelia  and  Eva  had  been  to  church  together. 
Miss  Ophelia  had  gone  to  her  room  to  take  off  her 
bonnet,  while  Eva  talked  to  her  father. 

Suddenly  Mr.  St.  Clare  and  his  little  girl  heard  a 
great  noise  coming  from  Miss  Ophelia's  room.  A  min- 
ute later  Miss  Ophelia  appeared,  dragging  Topsy  be- 
hind her. 

"Come  out  here,"  she  was  saying.    "I  will  tell  your 


master." 


"What  is  the  matter  now?"  asked  Mr.  St.  Clare. 

"The  matter  is  that  I  cannot  be  plagued  with  this 
child  any  longer,"  said  Miss  Ophelia.  "It  is  past  all 
bearing.  Here,  I  locked  her  up,  and  gave  her  a  hymn 
to  learn.  What  does  she  do,  but  spy  out  where  I  put 
my  key.  She  has  gone  to  my  wardrobe,  taken  a  bonnet- 


36  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

trimming,  and  cut  it  all  to  pieces  to  make  dolls'  jackets! 
I  never  saw  anything  like  it  in  my  life." 

"What  makes  you  behave  so?"  said  Mr.  St.  Clare. 

"  'Spects  it's  my  wicked  heart;   Miss  Feely  says  so." 

"What  makes  you  so  naughty,  Topsy?"  Eva  said, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "Why  don't  you  try  to  be  good? 
Don't  you  love  anybody,  Topsy?" 

"Dunno  nothin'  'bout  love.    I  love  candy,  that's  all." 

"Couldn't  never  be  nothin'  but  a  nigger,  if  I  was  ever 
so  good,"  said  Topsy.  "If  I  could  be  skinned,  and 
come  white,  I'd  try  then." 

"But  people  can  love  you,  if  you  are  black,  Topsy. 
Miss  Ophelia  would  love  you  if  you  were  good." 

Topsy  laughed  scornfully. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  said  Eva. 

"No.  She  can't  bear  me,  'cause  I'm  a  nigger.  She'd 
as  soon  have  a  toad  touch  her.  There  can't  nobody  love 
niggers,  and  niggers  can't  do  nothin'.  I  don't  care," 
and  Topsy  began  whistling  to  show  that  she  didn't. 

"Oh,  Topsy!  I  love  you,"  said  Eva,  laying  her  little, 
thin  hand  on  Topsy's  shoulder.  "I  love  you,  because 
you  haven't  had  any  mother,  or  father,  or  friends;  be- 
cause you  have  been  a  poor,  ill-used  child.  I  love  you, 
and  I  want  you  to  be  good.  It  makes  me  sorry  to  have 
you  so  naughty.  I  wish  you  would  try  to  be  good  for 
my  sake,  because  I'm  going  to  die  soon.  I  shan't  be 
here  very  long." 

"Oh,  Miss  Eva,  dear  Miss  Eva,"  cried  the  poor  little 
black  child,  "I  will  try,  I  will  try.  I  never  did  care 
nothin'  about  it  before." 

Eva  was  very  ill  indeed.  She  never  ran  about  and 
played  now,  but  spent  most  of  the  day  lying  on  the  sofa 
in  her  own  pretty  room. 

Every  one  loved  her,  and  tried  to  do  things  for  her. 
Even  naughty  little  Topsy  used  to  bring  her  flowers, 
and  try  to  be  good  for  her  sake. 

Uncle  Tom  was  a  great  deal  in  Eva's  room.    She  used 


Eva.  37 

to  get  very  restless,  and  then  she  liked  to  be  carried 
about. 

He  loved  to  do  it,  and  could  not  bear  to  be  long  away 
from  his  little  mistress.  He  gave  up  sleeping  in  his  bed, 
and  lay  all  night  on  the  mat  outside  her  door. 

One  day  Eva  made  her  aunt  cut  off  a  lot  of  her  beauti- 
ful hair.  Then  she  called  all  the  slaves  together,  said 
good-bye  to  them,  and  gave  them  each  a  curl  of  her 
hair  as  a  keep-sake.  They  all  cried  very  much,  and  said 
they  would  never  forget  her,  and  would  try  to  be  good 
for  her  sake. 

A  few  nights  later  Miss  Ophelia  came  quickly  to 
Tom,  as  he  lay  on  the  mat  outside  Eva's  door.  "Go, 
Tom,"  she  said,  "go  as  fast  as  you  can  for  the  doctor." 

Tom  ran.  But  in  the  morning  little  Eva  lay  on  her 
bed,  cold  and  white,  with  closed  eyes  and  folded  hands. 

She  had  gone  to  God. 

Mr.  St.  Clare  was  very  unhappy  for  a  long  time  after 
Eva  died.  He  had  loved  her  so  much,  that  his  life 
seemed  quite  empty  without  her. 

He  did  not  forget  his  promise  to  her  about  Tom,  and 
had  his  lawyer  begin  writing  out  the  papers  that  would 
make  Tom  free.  It  took  some  time  to  make  a  slave  free. 

"Well,  Tom,"  said  Mr.  St.  Clare  the  day  after  he 
had  spoken  to  his  lawyer,  "Fm  going  to  make  a  free  man 
of  you.  So  have  your  trunk  packed,  and  get  ready  to 
set  out  for  home." 

Joy  shone  in  Uncle  Tom's  face.  "Bless  the  Lord," 
he  said,  raising  his  hands  to  heaven. 

Mr.  St.  Clare  felt  rather  hurt.  He  did  not  like  Tom 
to  be  so  glad  to  leave  him. 

"You  haven't  had  such  a  very  bad  time  here  that  you 
need  be  in  such  rapture,  Tom,"  he  said. 

"No,  no,  mas'r!  tan't  that.  It's  bein'  a  free  man! 
That's  what  I'm  joyin'  for." 

"Why,  Tom,  don't  you  think  that  you  are  really  bet- 
ter off  as  you  are?" 


38  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

"No,  indeed,  Mas'r  St.  Clare,"  said  Tom,  very  decid- 
edly; uno,  indeed." 

"But,  Tom,  you  couldn't  possibly  have  earned  by 
your  work  such  clothes  and  such  nice,  comfortable 
rooms  and  good  food  as  I  have  given  you." 

"I  knows  all  that,  Mas'r  St.  Clare.  Mas'r  has  been 
too  good.  But,  mas'r,  I'd  rather  have  poor  clothes, 
poor  house,  poor  everything,  and  have  'em  mine,  than 
have  the  best,  and  have  'em  any  man's  else.  I  had  so, 
mas'r.  I  thinks  it's  nature,  mas'r. 

"I  suppose  so,  Tom.  You  will  be  going  off  and  leav- 
ing me,  in  a  month  or  two,"  he  said,  rather  discontent- 
edly. "Though  why  you  shouldn't,  I  don't  know,"  he 
added,  in  a  gayer  voice. 

"Not  while  mas'r  is  in  trouble,"  said  Tom.  "I'll  stay 
with  mas'r  as  long  as  he  wants  me — so  as  I  can  be  of 
any  use." 

"Not  while  I  am  in  trouble,  Tom?"  said  Mr.  St. 
Clare,  looking  sadly  out  of  the  window.  "And  when 
will  my  trouble  be  over?"  Then  half-smiling  he  turned 
from  the  window,  and  laid  his  hand  on  Tom's  shoulder. 
"Ah,  Tom,  you  soft,  silly  boy,"  he  said.  "I  won't  keep 
you.  Go  home  to  your  wife  and  children,  and  give 
them  all  my  love." 

"Cousin,"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  coming  into  the  room, 
"I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  Topsy." 

"What  has  she  been  doing  now?" 

"Nothing;  she  is  a  much  better  girl  than  she  used  to 
be.  But  I  want  to  ask  you,  whose  is  she — yours  or 
mine?" 

"Why,  yours,  of  course ;  I  gave  her  to  you,"  said  Mr. 
St.  Clare. 

"But  not  by  law.  There  is  no  use  my  trying  to  make 
this  child  a  Christian,  unless  I  can  be  quite  sure  that 
she  will  not  be  sold  as  a  slave  again.  If  you  are  really 
willing  I  should  have  her,  I  want  you  to  give  me  a 
paper  saying  she  is  mine." 


Uncle  Tom's  New  Master.  39 

He  wrote  out  the  paper,  and  Topsy  belonged  to  Miss 
Ophelia.  That  evening  Mr.  St  Clare  went  out  into  the 
town  for  a  walk. 

Tom  sat  down  on  the  verandah  to  wait  till  his  master 
came  home,  and  fell  asleep. 

He  was  awakened  by  loud  knocking,  and  the  sound  of 
voices  at  the  gate. 

He  ran  to  open  it,  and  met  several  men  carrying  Mr. 
St.  Clare.  He  had  been  hurt  in  an  accident,  and  was 
dying. 

In  a  short  time  he  had  gone  to  join  his  little  Eva. 


CHAPTER  XL 

UNCLE  TOM'S  NEW  MASTER. 

There  had  been  deep  grief  in  the  house  when  Eva 
died.  Now  there  was  not  only  sorrow,  but  gloom  and 
fear. 

The  kind  master  was  dead,  and  the  poor  slaves  asked 
themselves  in  despair  what  would  happen  to  them  now. 

They  were  not  long  left  in  doubt.  One  morning 
Mrs.  St.  Clare  told  them  they  were  all  to  be  sold.  She 
was  going  back  to  her  father's  house  to  live,  and  would 
not  want  them  any  more. 

Poor  Uncle  Tom!  The  news  was  a  dreadful  blow  ta 
him.  For  a  few  days  he  had  been  so  happy  in  the 
thought  of  going  home.  Once  more,  after  all  these 
years,  he  thought  he  would  see  his  dear  wife  and  little 
children.  Now,  at  one  stroke,  he  had  lost  both  his 
kind  master  and  his  hope  of  freedom. 

Instead  of  going  home,  he  was  to  be  sent  farther 
away  than  ever  from  his  dear  ones.  He  could  not  bear 
it.  He  tried  to  say,  "Thy  will  be  done,  but  bitter  tears 
almost  choked  the  words. 

He  had  one  hope  left.  He  would  ask  Miss  Ophelia 
to  speak  to  Mrs.  St.  Clare  for  him. 

"Mas'r  St.  Clare  promised  me  my  freedom,  Miss 


40  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Feely,"  he  said.  "He  told  me  that  he  had  begun  to 
take  it  out  for  me.  And  now,  perhaps,  if  you  would  be 
good  enough  to  speak  about  it  to  missis,  she  would  feel 
like  going  on  with  it.  Seeing  it  was  Mas'r  St.  Clare's 
wish,  she  might." 

"I'll  speak  for  you,  Tom,  and  do  my  best,"  said  Miss 
Ophelia. 

So  she  asked  Mrs.  St.  Clare  to  set  Tom  free. 

"Indeed,  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  she  replied.  "Tom 
Is  worth  more  than  any  of  the  other  slaves.  I  couldn't 
afford  to  lose  so  much  money. 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Ophelia,  "it  was  one  of  the  last 
wishes  of  your  husband  that  Tom  should  have  his  free- 
dom. He  promised  dear  little  Eva  that  he  should  have 
it.  I  think  you  ought  to  do  it." 

Then  Mrs.  St.  Clare  began  to  cry,  and  say  every  one 
was  unkind  to  her,  and  Miss  Ophelia  saw  it  was  no  use 
saying  anything  more.  There  was  only  one  other  thing 
she  could  do.  She  wrote  to  Mrs.  Shelby,  telling  her 
that  poor  Uncle  Tom  was  going  to  be  sold  again.  She 
asked  her  to  send  money  to  buy  him  back,  as  soon  as 
possible. 

The  next  day,  Uncle  Tom  and  the  other  slaves  be- 
longing to  Mr.  St.  Clare  were  sent  to  market  to  be  sold. 

A  cruel  man,  whose  name  was  Legree,  bought 
Uncle  Tom,  several  other  men  slaves,  and  two  women. 
One  of  the  women  was  a  pretty  young  girl,  who  had 
never  been  away  from  her  mother  before.  Her  mother, 
who  had  just  been  sold  to  a  kind-hearted  man,  was  cry- 
ing piteously,  "O,  mas'r,  please  do  buy  my  daughter." 
But  the  bids  were  so  high  the  man  did  not  have  money 
•enough  to  buy  her,  so  she  was  sold  to  Legree.  The  men, 
Uncle  Tom  among  them,  had  heavy  chains  put  on  both 
hands  and  feet.  Then  Legree  drove  them  all  on  to  a 
boat  which  was  going  up  the  river  to  his  plantation. 

At  last  the  weary  journey  was  over.  Legree  and  his 
Slaves  landed. 

Now  began  the  saddest  time  of  Uncle  Tom's  life. 


"O,  MAS'K  PLEASE  DO  BUY  MY  DAUGHTER."        [PAGE  40. 


Uncle  Tom's  New  Master.  41 

Every  morning  very  early  the  slaves  were  driven  out 
into  the  fields  like  cattle.  All  day  long  they  worked 
hard.  The  burning  sun  blazed  down  upon  them,  mak- 
ing them  hot  and  tired.  Legree  and  his  two  chief  slaves, 
called  Quimbo  and  Sambo,  marched  about  all  the  time 
with  whips  in  their  hands.  At  night  they  drove  the 
slaves  back  again  to  their  miserable  huts. 

But  before  they  could  rest,  they  had  to  grind  and  cook 
the  corn  for  their  supper.  When  at  last  they  did  go  to 
sleep,  they  had  to  lie  on  the  heaps  of  dirty  straw  instead 
of  in  comfortable  beds. 

Day  after  day  passed  in  the  same  way.  One  day  the 
old  woman  who  had  been  bought  at  the  same  time  as 
Tom  was  working  near  him.  He  saw  she  looked  very 
ill.  She  often  prayed  aloud,  and  trembled  as  if  she 
would  fall.  As  Tom  came  near  her  he  took  several 
handfuls  of  cotton  from  his  own  sack  and  dropped  them 
into  hers. 

"Oh,  you  musn't.  You  don't  know  what  they'll  do  to 
you,"  said  the  poor  old  woman. 

"I  can  bear  it  better  than  you,"  said  Tom. 

But  Sambo  had  seen  what  had  happened.  He  told 
Legree,  who  hated  a  kind  action;  he  was  such  a  cruel 
man. 

That  night,  although  the  poor  old  woman's  basket 
was  as  full  as  any,  Legree  pretended  that  it  was  not.  He 
told  Tom  to  beat  her  for  being  so  lazy. 

"I  beg  mas'r's  pardon,"  said  Tom.  "I  hopes  mas'r 
won't  set  me  to  that.  It's  what  I  an't  used  to,  never  did 
— and  can't  do." 

"What?"  said  Legree,  seizing  a  whip  and  striking 
Tom  again  and  again  with  it.  "Will  you  tell  me  now 
you  can't  do  it?" 

"Yes,  mas'r,""  said  Tom.  "I'm  willing  to  work  night 
and  day.  I'll  work  while  there's  life  and  breath  left  in 
me.  But  this  thing  I  can't  feel  it  right  to  do.  And, 
mas'r,  I  never  shall  do  it,  never." 


4*  Uncle  .Tom's  Cabin. 

"How  dare  you!"  roared  Legree.  "You  pretend  to 
be  good.  Have  you  never  read  in  your  Bible,  "Servants 
obey  your  masters?"  Am  I  not  your  master?  Are  you 
not  mine,  body  and  soul?" 

"No,  no,  no!  my  soul  an't  yours,"  said  Tom,  looking 
calmly,  almost  joyfully,  at  him.  "You  haven't  bought  it 
— you  can't  buy  it.  It's  been  bought  and  paid  for  by 
One  that's  able  to  keep  it.  You  can't  harm  me." 

"I  can't?"  roared  Legree.  "We  will  see.  Here, 
Sambo!  Quimbo!  give  him  such  a  breaking-in  that  he 
won't  forget  it  for  a  month." 

A  few  days  after  this,  two  women  slaves  ran  away 
from  the  plantation. 

When  Legree  learned  they  had  escaped  he  was  ter- 
ribly angry. 

Quickly  gathering  a  great  number  of  men  and  sav- 
age dogs,  he  set  out  to  hunt  them,  but  they  could  not  be 
found. 

Legree  had  been  angry  when  he  started  out.  When 
he  came  back  his  passion  was  furious. 

He  was  sure  Uncle  Tom  knew  where  the  two  women 
were,  and  determined  to  make  him  tell. 

"Do  you  know,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  kill  you?" 
he  said  to  Tom. 

"It's  very  likely,  mas'r,"  said  Tom  calmly. 

"I  have,"  said  Legree,  "unless  you  tell  me  where 
these  two  women,  who  have  run  away,  are." 

"I've  nothing  to  tell,  mas'r,"  said  Tom,  speaking 
slowly  and  firmly. 

"Do  you  dare  tell  me  ye  don't  know?" 

Again  Tom  was  silent. 

"Speak!"  yelled  Legree.    "Do  you  know  anything?" 

"I  know,  mas'r.    But  I  can't  tell." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  such  a  silence,  that 
the  tick  of  the  old  clock  on  the  wall  could  be  heard. 

Then  Legree,  foaming  with  rage,  struck  Uncle  Tom 
a  terrible  blow,  so  that  he  fell  to  the  ground  senseless. 


Freedom.  43 

CHAPTER  XII. 

FREEDOM. 

The  letter  which  Miss  Ophelia  wrote  to  Mrs.  Shelby, 
telling  her  that  Tom  was  to  be  sold  again,  was  delayed 
a  long  time.  When  at  last  it  did  arrive,  Mr.  Shelby  was 
very  ill,  and  though  Mrs.  Shelby  felt  dreadfully  sorry 
about  Uncle  Tom,  she  could  do  nothing,  as  her  husband 
was  so  ill.  Soon  Mr.  Shelby  died.  Mrs.  Shelby  was 
very  sad,  but  in  her  sorrow  she  did  not  forget  her  prom- 
ise to  Aunt  Chloe  and  Uncle  Tom.  As  soon  as  she  could, 
she  sold  some  land,  and  George  Shelby,  taking  the 
money  with  him,  went  off  to  try  to  find  Uncle  Tom  and 
buy  him  back  again. 

At  last,  after  searching  about  for  months,  George 
Shelby  found  out  where  Uncle  Tom  was,  and  followed 
him. 

Two  days  after  Legree  had  been  so  cruel,  George 
Shelby  drove  up  the  avenue  and  stopped  at  the  door 
of  the  old  house. 

"I  hear,"  he  said  to  Legree,  "that  you  bought  a  slave 
named  Tom.  He  used  to  belong  to  my  father.  I  have 
come  to  buy  him  back  again." 

Legree's  face  grew  black  with  anger.  "Yes,  I  did 
buy  such  a  fellow,"  he  growled  in  rage.  "And  a  bad 
bargain  it  was,  too! 

"Where  is  he  ?"  said  George.  "Let  me  see  him."  His 
cheeks  were  crimson,  and  his  eyes  flashed  fire  at  the 
thought  that  Legree  had  dared  to  treat  dear  Uncle  Tom 
so  badly. 

"He  is  in  that  shed,"  said  a  little  fellow  who  was 
holding  George  Shelby's  horse. 

George,  without  saying  another  word,  hurried  to  the 
place  to  which  the  little  bov  pointed. 

As  he  entered  the  shed,  his  head  felt  giddy  and  his 
heart  sick. 


44  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Uncle  Tom  lay  on  a  heap  of  straw  on  the  floor,  still 
and  quiet. 

"Oh,  dear  Uncle  Tom,"  cried  George  as  he  knelt 
beside  him,  "dear  Uncle  Tom,  do  wake — do  speak  once 
more.  Here's  Mas'r  George — your  own  little  Mas'r 
George.  Don't  you  know  me  ?" 

"Mas'r  George!"  said  Tom,  opening  his  eyes,  and 
speaking  in  a  feeble  voice.  "Mas'r  George?  It  is — it 
is.  It's  all  I  wanted.  They  haven't  forgot  me.  It 
warms  my  soul ;  it  does  my  old  heart  good.  Now  I 
shall  die  content." 

"You  shan't  die!  you  mustn't  die,  nor  think  of  it.  I've 
come  to  buy  you  and  take  you  home,"  said  George,  and 
the  tears  came  into  his  eyes  as  he  bent  over  poor  Uncle 
Tom. 

"Oh,  Mas'r  George,  ye're  too  late.  The  Lord  has 
bought  me,  and  is  going  to  take  me  home." 

"Oh,  don't.  It  breaks  my  heart  to  think  of  what 
you've  suffered — lying  in  this  old  shed,  too." 

"You  mustn't  tell  Chloe,  poor  soul,  how  ye  found 
me,"  said  Tom,  taking  George  by  the  hand.  "It  would 
seem  so  dreadful  to  her.  Only  tell  her  ye  found  me 
going  into  glory,  and  that  I  couldn't  stay  for  no  one. 
And  oh,  the  poor  chil'en,  and  the  baby — my  old  heart's 
been  most  broke  for  them.  Tell  them  to  follow  me. 
Give  my  love  to  mas'r,  and  dear,  good  missis,  and  every- 
body in  the  place.  I  love  them  all." 

He  closed  his  eyes,  and  with  a  smile  he  fell  asleep. 
Uncle  Tom  too  was  free. 

Beyond  the  gates  of  Legree's  farm,  George  had 
noticed  a  dry,  sandy  knoll,  shaded  by  a  few  trees.  There 
he  made  Uncle.  Tom's  grave.  No  stone  marks  his  last 
resting-place.  He  needs  none.  God  knows  where  he 
lies. 

Kneeline  there  George  bent  his  head,  in  shame  and 
sorrow.  "Hear  me,  dear  God,"  he  said,  "from  this  day, 
I  will  do  what  one  man  can  to  drive  out  the  curse  of 
slavery  from  this  land." 


Freedom.  45 

George  Shelby  wrote  a  little  note  to  his  mother,  tel- 
ling her  that  he  was  conning  home.  He  tried  to  write 
about  Uncle  Tom,  but  he  could  not;  tears  blinded  him, 
and  sobs  choked  him. 

On  the  day  he  was  expected  every  one  was  in  a  state 
of  bustle  and  excitement.  Aunt  Chloe  in  a  new  print 
dress  and  clean  white  apron  walked  round  the  supper- 
table,  making  sure  that  everything  was  right.  Her  black 
face  shone  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  seeing  Uncle  Tom 
again. 

"I'm  thinking  my  old  man  won't  know  the  boys  and 
the  baby,"  she  said. 

Just  then  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard.  ^ 

"It's  Mas'r  George,"  cried  Aunt  Chloe,  running  to 
the  window  in  great  excitement. 

Mrs.  Shelby  ran  to  the  door.  As  George  met  her  he 
put  his  arms  round  her,  and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

Aunt  Chloe  stood  behind  anxiously  looking  out  into 
the  darkness. 

"Oh,  poor  Aunt  Chloe,"  said  George,  gently  taking 
her  hard,  black  hand  between  both  his  own.  "I'd  have 
given  all  my  fortune  to  have  brought  Uncle  Tom  home 
with  me;  but  he  has  gone  to  a  better  country." 

Mrs.  Shelby  cried  out  as  if  she  had  been  hurt,  but 
Aunt  Chloe  did  not  make  a  sound. 

Then  she  turned  and  walked  proudly  out  of  the  room. 
Mrs.  Shelby  followed  her  softly,  took  one  of  her  hands, 
drew  her  down  into  a  chair,  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"My  poor,  good  Chloe,"  she  said  gently. 

Chloe  leaned  her  head  on  her  mistress's  shoulder, 
and  sobbed  out,  "Oh,  missis,  'scuse  me,  my  heart's  broke 
— dat's  all." 

"I  know  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Shelby,  as  her  tears  fell  fast, 
"and  I  cannot  heal  it." 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  as  they  wept  together. 
Then  George  sat  down  beside  Aunt  Chloe,  and  took  her 
hand.  He  talked  gently  to  her,  telling  her  of  Uncle 


46  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Tom's  last  loving  messages.  So  she  was  comforted  a 
little. 

One  morning,  about  a  month  after  this,  George 
Shelby  called  all  his  servants  together,  telling  them  he 
had  something  to  say  to  them. 

They  wondered  what  it  could  be,  and  were  very  much 
surprised  when  he  appeared,  carrying  a  bundle  of  pa- 
pers in  his  hand. 

They  were  still  more  astonished  when  he  gave  a  pa- 
per to  each  one,  and  told  them  all  that  they  were  free. 

With  sobs  and  tears  and  shouts  they  pressed  round 
him,  thanking  and  blessing  him.  But  some  of  them 
came  with  anxious  faces,  begging  him  to  take  their  free 
papers  back  again,  and  not  to  send  them  away. 

"My  good  friends,"  said  George,  when  he  could  get 
silence,  "there  will  be  no  need  for  you  to  leave  me.  We 
want  quite  as  many  servants  as  we  did  before.  But  now 
you  are  free  men  and  free  women.  I  shall  pay  you 
wages  for  your  work,  and  if  I  die,  or  get  into  debt,  you 
can't  be  taken  away  to  be  sold.  That  is  all  the  differ- 
ence. I  want  you  all  to  stay  with  me,  for  I  want  to  teach 
you  how  to  live  as  free  men  and  women  ought." 

"One  thing  more,"  added  George,  when  the  cheering 
and  rejoicing  had  died  away  a  little.  "You  all  remem- 
ber our  good  old  Uncle  Tom.  You  have  heard  how  he 
died,  and  how  he  sent  his  love  to  you  all.  It  was  on  his 
grave,  my  friends,  that  I  made  up  my  mind,  with  God's 
help,  never  to  own  another  slave,  if  it  were  possible  to 
free  him.  I  resolved  that  nobody,  through  my  fault, 
should  ever  run  the  risk  of  being  parted  from  his  dear 
ones,  and  of  dying  far  from1  them,  as  he  died. 

"So,  when  you  rejoice  in  your  freedom,  remember 
that  you  owe  it  to  dear  old  Uncle  Tom,  and  pay  it  back 
in  kindness  to  his  wife  and  children.  Think  of  your 
freedom  every  time  you  see  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin;  and 
let  it  help  you  to  try  to  live  as  he  did,  and  to  be  as  hon- 
est and  faithful  and  Christian  as  he  was." 


Z15Y 
US' 


